


Ice Cream and Arguing

by Moransroar



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, ice cream and arguing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:23:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3381386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hot in the city of London, far too hot.<br/>And the only solution is, of course, ice cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice Cream and Arguing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Goodoldfashionedvillainjm from Tumblr, who requested:
> 
> "mybe… story about Jim and Seb as they go to the supermarket and have an argue of what kind of ice-cream they will buy.. …if you like it.. :’))"

It took Sebastian a few attempts, but finally did he manage to have Jim join him on a little trip to the supermarket. In Jim’s offense, it was by far too hot to be wandering outside of their blissfully cool apartment (yes, even for London this time around), and this was simply wasting the time that he could effectively spend on some of the paperwork that still needed doing. Sebastian had no hits that day, and was bored to death with hanging about the apartment all day. No beach he could go to –not that Jim would want to- and he wasn’t keen on the local indoor pools. Too many little children for him to have a proper swim.

Also, living ten up in the centre of the city of London didn’t exactly provide a garden for you, so a tiny footbath wasn’t an option either. The only thing that had been remotely cooling was the fan, a small thing that creaked whenever it turned to the left, and it had blown exceptionally pleasantly into his face and played with his blond strands. But that had been when the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet, and the heat hadn’t escalated as it had now.

Sebastian had filled himself a bath with cold water from the tap, but even that had warmed up to his body temperature and wasn’t all that cooling anymore. Ironically, Jim had used up all their ice cubes the previous day on an experimental torture session of his, so Sebastian thought it a good idea to have the criminal come with him to the Tesco along Regent Street to buy a new bag of ice cubes.

The sniper knew how much Moriarty hated going into public, and with the dramatic way he had been handling the incredible heat, Sebastian was taking a big risk by bringing him. He was likely to throw a tantrum in the middle of the shop, all tired and sweaty. At least Jim wasn’t wearing any of his suits, under the pretence that it was atrocious in such a heat. He _was_ , however, wearing a dress shirt, which was stained under the armpits and visibly sticking to his skin, almost see-through because of the sweat.

Sebastian had to admit he didn’t really mind the view, knowing that the day would end with the cooling down of the air and a beautifully coloured sky. And they would gather on the balcony and watch the sun set and the now heavy air grow chilly and crisp. And as the sweat would finally seem to cool down, when the first shiver were to run down their spines, they would step into the shower together and wash off all exertion of that day.

Perhaps that was what Moran liked most about the summer. Not the beaches and the sand, or the endless flood of ice cream cones, adding a few pounds to his toned stomach that he could begin working off again directly after, but Jim. Then again, God forbid, when was it ever not?

Jim didn’t much fancy public displays of affection, but Sebastian took the man’s hand as they exited the flat and tugged him down the street in direction of Regent Street. The air seemed to float around them rather than how still it usually was, as if a thick, hot fog was dragging through the streets. Normally, it was still and you could move in it freely, but combined with the terrible heat did this day make everyone slow in their movements and thoughts, too lazy to really be productive.

But then there was James Moriarty, Napoleon of crime, master criminal. Working with the casual slur of ‘our business is murder for profit, business for cash, not idling for currency’. And it was true, Sebastian supposed, but on a day like this who the hell would want to run around London, chasing a client or sitting on a roof somewhere, waiting fuck knows how long in the searing sun for a target that might or might not show up. However much he liked slacking on a day like this, he didn’t fancy getting a sunstroke.

“Can we get ice cream?” Jim asked almost innocently, looking up at Sebastian with big, dark chocolate, doe eyes as they passed the isle with the refrigerated goods, and the latter smiled down at the smaller man.

“You’ve already had a cone today,” Said Sebastian, as if he was his babysitter, “You’ll get sick.”

Jim frowned with an almost deliberately petulant little pout, “I can perfectly decide that for myself, thank you very much.”

And with a suddenly cheeky grin and a wink, the criminal dashed off to later be found browsing through the different flavours in the freezers at the far end of the shop.

Sebastian had gathered two big bags of ice cubes to fill himself a tub for the rest of the day, and he looked down to the tub that Jim had in his hands.

“No mint chocolate chip, Jim. Not again.”

It was the only flavour that had a certain consistency in their freezer, a permanent spot was reserved for an XL tub of mint choc chip. If one Tesco didn’t have it for some reason, Jim would kindly request his sniper to go to a different shop to get one or sleep outside that very night.

So Moran had seen enough minty ice cream in his life, and now he was in the mood for something else for a change. Spotting a familiar dark green tub, he picked it up and showed it to the smaller man.

“Pistachio?” Jim wrinkled his nose, “You can’t be serious.”

Sebastian smirked with a shrug, “That brand you tasted in Dublin was terrible, you’ve got to try this one.”

Jim seemed to contemplate Sebastian’s choice for a moment, but then shook his head, “No, I’d rather stick to this flavour.”

Jim Moriarty was such a creature of habit when it came to different foods. Beyond that, he would try anything and everything, was a really daring person overall, but his palette didn’t fancy trying out other divine tastes. Maybe his taste buds were accustomed to the minty flavour of this particular ice cream. Then again, if that were true then how did the tub of strawberry cheesecake ice cream vanish? Sebastian hadn’t thrown it out, Jim hadn’t thrown it out, but at the end of the week there had been an empty tub in the rubbish bin.

“How about we both try something new?”

“No.”

“Jim..”

“..No.”

Sebastian put down the big bags of ice cubes in the fridge by which they were standing, sighing quietly. Insufferably stubborn some times, yet it still was as if Jim sought out Sebastian’s approval. He wasn’t just walking to the checkout to buy the ice cream he wanted, he just looked up at the tall blond as he tilted his head in silent question.

“Coffee is nice,” Sebastian still tried, to which Moriarty shook his head with a disgusted expression, “Right, no coffee. How about cookie dough?”

If there was something that Jim liked, it was stealing tiny bites of the batch whenever Sebastian was in an odd mood for baking, manoeuvring through the kitchen with an apron tied around his waist and flower on his hands. Of course, that resulted in a Jim with stomach aches, and less cookies than Sebastian initially hoped for.

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Sebastian looked down at the freezer again, putting back both of their tubs, despite Jim’s obvious reluctance. He pointed at a broken white tub, “French vanilla?”

Jim took a moment to consider, then shook his head. Indecisive as hell.

Sebastian tried again.

“Blackberry?” A shake of Jim’s head. “Black _currant_?” Another one. “Raspberry?”

“Neopolitan.”

Sebastian frowned down at the see-through tub Jim had picked up from the back of the freezer, tilting his head to read the title. “Chocolate, strawberry and vanilla? That’s just for the indecisive.”

Moriarty rolled his eyes at him and nudged him playfully with his shoulder before he turned, tub in hand, and made for the checkout.

“Exactly,” The criminal slurred over his shoulder, motioning for the sniper to follow. Which he did, after picking up the bags of ice cubes, hoping they wouldn’t melt on their way home. That would means less of a pleasant day, because having the bags radiate their cool off on his overheated body was already a great relief, and he shivered in anticipation of what heaven would be awaiting him.

When he got to the register, he noticed the tubs had multiplied, now two tubs waiting to be scanned and sold. Sebastian put the bags on the tape as well, and got in line behind Jim, absently resting his hand on the smaller man’s hip as he leaned over his shoulder to peer down.

Mint chocolate chip ice cream.

“You sneaky little bastard,” Sebastian murmured amusedly, giving the flesh beneath his fingertips a teasing squeeze.

Jim shrugged, and turned his head to catch Sebastian’s lips in a chaste kiss, “I’ll get in our bath with you if you let me eat the whole tub.”

Sebastian was likely to regret that if he were to agree, but the idea of having Jim relax with him instead of impatiently pacing around the flat and taking phone call after phone call, sending email after email and getting gradually more stressed out was tempting. Really tempting indeed.

So the blond licked his lips, glancing down into Jim’s expecting eyes from where they leaned back-to-chest while the register attendant scanned their products, and nodded slowly after a brief moment.

“Deal.”


End file.
